We have just gone through that time of year again, when Tasmanians stare at trees and smile inwardly and feel a profound sense of place. I have lived, for shorter or longer periods, in Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney, Warragul, Forbes, Deniliquin, Mansfield, Vienna, Rome, London and Hong Kong, meaning there was quite a bit of life lived before I moved to Hobart. Nothing, however, across the decades and continents, across long existence and experience, prepared me for the druidic worship I see each Tasmanian autumn. Nowhere else I have been or seen have I witnessed an annual specific vegetation veneration. Before I came to Tasmania, I had never even heard of fagus.     

Pen Tayler is almost as Tasmanian as fagus. And at the changing of the colours, she is there with her camera.